


i don't wanna go back to the lonely life

by thesarcasticone



Series: all i've ever known [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Softness, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, but not in chronological order, but will not mark it as complete because there is a possibility i will write one more, part of a series, this is technically finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesarcasticone/pseuds/thesarcasticone
Summary: “You can open it if you want to, but be warned my sister tends to write idiocities when finding herself in despair. She has written before, all erratic toned letters in which she begged for my love and my prompt return to her side, all while vaguely trying to convince me of it by her askew narration of current events.”Or: Tywin finds out about Jaime and Brienne and their adventures and is very Tywin about it. Jaime and Brienne ride north, leaving the past and summer behind them.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: all i've ever known [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511672
Comments: 16
Kudos: 105





	i don't wanna go back to the lonely life

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has dared to read anything I have written. You are the best. 
> 
> We have come to end of my timeline. This little experiment was born because the idea of a young Brienne and Jaime meeting years prior to their canon meeting got stuck in my head and then I just mapped out a couple of scenes following said idea. This was never supposed to be more than a five part series. So, it got a bit out of my hands. 
> 
> There are still several scenes I could maybe write out, but timeline wise, we have reached the end. Because I did want to follow canon and because I feel no way prepared to even dip my toes in what endgame will entail. 
> 
> Just as a reminder: Tywin still lives in this AU, so Cersei doesn't get a real chance to mess things up in King's Landing. 
> 
> And a bit of background/headcanon for this: After Jaime and Brienne confess to their feelings, they continue their search for Sansa and eventually are joined by the Blackfish who helps them get safely into the Eyrie where Sansa is being kept under Petyr Baelish's command. The Blackfish challenges Petyr to single man combat (outwinning Jaime and Brienne's attempt) and eventually murders Littlefinger thus ensuring Sansa's rule. They get married at the Vale, after they are certain Sansa will remain safe there. Winter comes and the Night's Watch call to arms. They have traveled the lands and know how scarce and wounded they are and so, fearing for an even worse outcome if the north is breeched, they decide to ride out to help defend the Wall. Pod and the other two children follow them around for a month before making themselves known. 
> 
> As always, all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Title from All I've Ever Known from Hadestown

After his sister’s third letter had managed to find him, Jaime had laid out specific instructions to his newly acquired squire to not bother him whenever any messages arrived from King’s Landing. 

Cersei had first written after he and Brienne had managed to secure Sansa Stark the rule over the Vale and its armies. The rumor of the sudden rise of the lost Stark daughter having spread quicker than any other news during such troublesome times. 

The Riverlands, still aching and suffering the loss of fields and families and dynasties, had clung to the news of the newly found heir to the North and the Vale, and had managed to secure the news of said feat to hastily reach the capital in less than a fortnight.

So his sister had written, raging about the treason he had helped commit and how she and the crown would forgive him if he returned to the capital to help her set their father aside; a figure which she had once thought would be a fruitful ally, who had now become an enemy of hers by having successfully gained control over the new King and the newly formed small council.

The second letter had arrived containing news about his brother’s sudden escape, and although Jaime had felt a certain relief upon learning of Tyrion’s mysterious disappearance, he had not appreciated the fact that a second missive had managed to find him. Especially since that one had arrived at the small inn in which he and Brienne had been staying for the night, having eagerly been celebrating their second month of marriage. 

The third raven had arrived when the news of Tarth having been invaded by Aegon Targaryen, risen from the ashes of a sacked city, reached both travelers and their newly acquired companions: a young boy of ten who had been following them around for weeks before having made himself known, a young man who Jaime idly recognized at having been his brother’s old squire, and a young girl of nine who insistently claimed to have been looking for her brother. 

Brienne had suggested they find a place to rest for the night; the shivering cold of the north having been taking its toll on their young companions. The letter had found them in the morning. They had remained at the northern barn for almost an entire fortnight when Brienne had finally decided it was time to resume their ride north. 

_ ‘The Night’s Watch expects us. We can’t afford to lose light, not when winter has already come.’ _

It took them close to four months because of continuous stops they would make, either to rest or help the idle wanderer along the Riverlands and then the Northern lands, to reach what was left of Castle Black and the Night's Watch. 

The fourth letter arrived merely three days after Jaime and Brienne had settled in at the Castle, after having assessed all which had been transpiring in the north while the south had wasted away what little resources they had on a fruitless and pathetic war. 

Brienne was the one to find the letter, as a sudden wave of nausea hit and managed to wake her during the middle of the night, an occurrence which had become a constant ill ever since she had started taking regular cups of moontea.

She comfortably left Jaime settled on their shared but small bed, proceeding to serve herself a cup of water from the pitcher Podrick would always leave out for them. As she reached for one of the empty cups, she took notice of the small piece of parchment, still folded and sealed, resting next to them. 

She had never been overly curious, but she had always been cautious. Her eyes skimmed over the closed parchment, the Lannister sigil a prominent sight. 

By law, Brienne should have adopted her husband’s name; but laws were fickle and their love unique and real. Tarth had fallen under the dragon’s rage, news of the Evenstar’s defeat had reached them and had instantly risen Brienne to hold the title of Evenstar of Evenfall Hall and thus, she had not had the heart to let go of her family’s name. Jaime had revelled in such commotion, having already presented his misgivings and trepidations at one day having to soil their sons and daughters with the cursed Lannister name. 

Nevertheless, a lion she had become; by vows and honor, and with the ruling Lady of the Vale and Winterfell as witness. 

Her fingers ran across the sigil, the lion mocking her in a way Jaime had never dared to. 

“You can open it if you want to, but be warned my sister tends to write idiocities when finding herself in despair. She has written before, all erratic toned letters in which she begged for my love and my prompt return to her side, all while vaguely trying to convince me of it by her askew narration of current events.”

His voice startled her enough to give a slight jump, but she did not lose her hold on the parchment, nor did she allow her eyes to wander and seek his. She knew him well enough to know he meant every word and tease made. 

She felt his body come behind her, her back relaxing into his embrace in a practiced move which had Jaime instantly encircling her frame with his arms, his head coming to rest against her right shoulder. 

Her night shift was warm and thick and she could barely feel the heat radiating from his body toward her own, but his love could be felt as present and ardent as it always did. 

“How do you know this one comes from your sister? It is rumored your brother has arrived back on Westeros with the supposed mother of dragons; and your lord father still holds the title of Hand of the King, does he not?”

Jaime groaned, loud and through her skin, making Brienne shiver with a familiar want; all traces of her previous nausea having now disappeared. 

“You should open it. If it contains any kind of nonsense, you have my permission to throw it in the fire.” She was still not the greatest at making jokes or attempt at flirtations, but every now and then she could hear his voice taunting a message inside her mind which she often found herself unable to hold back. 

Jaime released her, his head coming to meet with hers, raising an eyebrow in both defiance and amusement. 

“Since when have I ever needed your permission to do anything?”

“All the more reason for you to open this. I’m not going to judge you, Jaime. I know you, I always have and always will.” She kissed him, quick and loving. 

Jaime pressed himself against her, his body asking for more than a quick and chaste kiss. The bed felt cold when she wasn’t in it, when she left it to ponder about life and about a future they still held no control over. 

_ As long as I don’t lose you, I don’t care if I never get anything else back.  _

Brienne obliged to his wishes, if only because the tingling want had somehow blossomed into a raging and consuming need. 

She allowed him to lead her back towards their bed, his hand knowingly skimming over her body, circling every part of her which would make her squirm with need and moan with wanton abandon. 

In a blissful afterglow, warmed by their bodies and the embers of a long-forgotten fire, Brienne broke the seal to the fourth letter. 

_ It is not your sister who urges you to return south, but your lord father, who has been forced to write this missive from the road, as the capital has been taken by rebel forces.  _

_ The Targaryens are and have always been fools, but they are the ones who hold the greater power now. Fear has been instilled upon the land and fear will rule it until something or someone breaks or bends the new forged wheel.  _

_ The world has always been idiotic and impetuous. Dragons have come to Westeros, and with them change has followed. We ride for Casterly Rock, our party consisting on what has been left of the royal court, along with your sister and two nephews.  _

_ The Rock is yours by birthright, and as we find ourselves in need of moving back to it, I find myself asking you to uphold the honor which I returned to you when I removed your damned whitecloak from your shoulders.  _

_ If the hesitation you feel to return and take your rightful place as Lord of the Rock has to do with your ill-chosen bride, then let me be the first to promise the Lady of Tarth will be welcomed into our home as any guest of noble birth would. My low esteem regarding such an inferior connection is no secret, but regardless of your misfortunate choosing, the lady is now your wife and thus should be and will be treated as such. _

_ Your presence is required.  _

_ Give my regards to your bride. _

_ You have failed at everything else I have ever asked of you. Do not fail me now.  _

_ Lord Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King.  _

“I’m sorry you had to read that.”

Tywin Lannister held no place in Brienne’s daily thoughts; the man was a distant memory, a figure from another lifetime, back when the world had seemed impossibly wide and life had been almost monotonous. 

Tywin Lannister didn’t belong in Brienne’s new found world of knights and love and sacrifice. He didn’t belong in a world where you broke fast with your enemy and defended foreign lands to try and salvage what was left of the Kingdoms. 

“Your father writes with urgency, yet he refrains from either politely asking you, or forcefully demanding you to leave.”

Jaime turned to stare at his wife; brittle hair disheveled from their midnight frivolities, full lips chapped from the cold, crystal eyes sated and calmer than he had ever witnessed them. There was a word which described her condition better than any, and the word was content. Brienne felt content, and such a stance only made Jaime melt against her to try and catch a smidge of such a blissful state. 

“To understand Tywin you must understand the unwritten word. You say he doesn’t force me, but he does.”

Her blue orbs would have once flinched upon having heard such words falling from his lips, but superficial doubts were gone and blinding trust and love had replaced the weariness and hesitation she had once lived in. She looked at him with such love, Jaime felt himself trying to emote the same amount of devotion in a single and quick kiss to her lips. 

“Brienne,” he called upon separating from her, their foreheads lingering close to each other. “Throw this in the fire and come back to bed.”

And she smiled, a small and almost delicate grin which Jaime had only ever witnessed her freely giving behind their chamber’s closed doors. 

Brienne stood with a careful pace, her mind still foggy from their previous encounter; her legs strong, but spent and a bit shaky. 

The embers were dying, but still lit enough to warm Brienne’s face as she dove near them to carefully drop the parchment on top. She lingered for a second, enjoying how the small fire slowly consumed the written  _ and _ unwritten insults the Lord of Casterly Rock had written to his son about his choice of wife. 

She had expected the Lord’s disapproval and given insults. Brienne had already been subjected to dreams in which she would wake up alone, without her husband by her side; the only echo of his presence being a note having been left by her side in which the words  _ Tywin _ ,  _ disappointment _ and  _ mistake _ would leap from the page. 

So the words hadn’t surprised her, nor bothered her. Her own mind was more than capable of creating enough doubt all by itself. But they were all passing doubts and insignificant worries; the lingering ghosts from a past she sometimes could scarcely remember. 

“Brienne.”

She heard him call out from across the small room in which they had been allowed to lodge in while staying at Castle Black. 

As she snuggled in beside his warm and still naked body, Brienne sighed in peace. 

There was only one Lannister who held the power of frightening her, and said Lannister currently rested beside her, with his arms reaching out for her to come and circle him in an embrace. 

And he  _ had _ frightened her; by having recklessly charged at a direwolf near the moon Gate; by having offered his life for hers in order to secure Sansa the Vale; by continuously being the brave, honorable idiot she had fallen in love with. 

“There is one thing which does disturb me about the letter.”

She felt him tense against her, her left arm tightening around him in reflex, with her hand slowly running smooth circles over his still bare chest. 

_ How is it you’re still warm to the touch?  _

“How does your father  _ know _ we're here? How does he know you married -me?”

“Tywin knows all.”

Always a flair for dramatics. Brienne resisted the urge to pinch him. 

“Your father is  _ not _ all knowing. The roads are being destroyed, there is almost no passage through the Riverlands, and half of the Stormlands have perished under dragon fire. Every land in Westeros is bleeding. Surely the news of a marriage would not be an important enough occurence to merit the travel and perils of such roads.”

At her incredulence, Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle and grab her hand in order to plant a simple kiss to the inside of her wrist, cursing his old age against her young one as he felt her legs suddenly tightening around his own in response to his caress. 

It was a cold night and the warmth of their bodies was a lure neither could resist. 

“No, but the news of the Kingslayer and son and heir of Tywin Lannister marrying the most honorable of maids is a piece of news warranting the scrutiny and divulgence it apparently has gotten.”

Her silence wasn’t unnerving, but he planted a second kiss to her wrist, just to secure her mind’s peace. Even if they held no doubts or worries about their union, they were both aware of the odd arrangement and the dubious circumstances which had allowed them to marry. 

After a full minute of silence, Brienne’s voice was heard. “I wrote to my father.”

Her voice was soft and held a distant quality in it which made Jaime turn around to face her.

Her eyes were sad, as they always turned whenever her mind drifted towards her fallen father. 

Jaime remembered Selwyn and his grandiose presence. He had been as righteous as his daughter, and had probably been even more stubborn than her. Jaime felt a great respect for the man if only because he had allowed Brienne to become the woman she was. 

“Did Lord Selwyn threaten to come and geld me for having dishonored his only daughter?”

She gave him a playful hit, one which barely grazed his body. 

“He was happy. He wrote that he wasn’t at all surprised by my choice. He emphasized that ever since the day you had gifted me Lion Sapphire, he had known I would forever be devoted to you.”

Jaime enjoyed watching the glint in her eye as she spoke the name of her sword; a blade which had seen battles and joys, death and life. He had named her weapon on their wedding night, as she had named his. It had been their wedding gift to the other. 

“What he had found surprising had been your sudden dismissal from the Kingsgaurd.”

An emotion the Lord of Tarth shared with everyone else in the realm. 

“But he offered me his consent. Even if he was aware it wasn’t needed. He thought it would help calm any remorse I held on to for not having spoken to him about any of it.”

There was more she wanted to voice, Jaime could tell by the way she gave out a soft sigh. 

Almost immediately following such expression, her body gave an involuntary shiver, her pale skin prickling with cold-induced goosebumps. The heat of the moment was passing and the frigid and almost unbearable cold of the north was returning to their chambers. 

“It was the last letter I ever received from him. I sent him back a quick note when we reached White Harbor, but I don’t know if it ever reached him.”

“Come here," he voiced, offering his arms and embrace to her.

“I thought you-”

“Brienne.”

It went by unspoken, the request, the acceptance. Words had grown useless when they each could read the other’s needs and wants by looking into clear and unshielded eyes. 

The world felt as if it were ending; dragons, white walkers, death and fire raging over the land of Westeros and seemingly destroying everything they knew and held close. 

Brienne accepted his offered embrace, gladly sinking into him in the same way he had done so, just mere moments ago. 

“Tommen and Myrcella are with them. On their way to Casterly Rock.” She heard herself voice, a thought which alongside her father's fate, had managed to creep inside her mind. 

“I know.”

“I promised you we would eventually go back for them.”

“I know.”

“We will," she voiced, a determined whisper which she knew he trusted.

“I love you," he whispered back; those being the only words Jaime found himself being able to process and voice.

She smiled, kissed the scar on his arm where his hand had been brutishly cut off, the flesh still far more tender than the rest of his skin was. 

“I love you,” she whispered back, her breath warming Jaime’s cold stump.

There was a chill in the room, a reminder of the winter and wars to come. 

They had answered the call of the Night’s Watch. A raven had been sent out, with threatening words and begging requests which had irked both warriors and the now Lady of the Vale. 

White Walkers threatened to invade the Kingdoms. The North had fallen because of its own petty and meaningless fighting. There weren’t enough northern survivors to succesfully guard the realms of men. 

With Sansa Stark’s and the Blackfish’s blessing, Brienne and Jaime had left the Vale and had made their way north to fight what would most likely become the grandest and most dangerous of wars. 

Winter had finally come. 

But for a moment, all frost thawed, all snow disappeared and a warm and pleasant spring bloomed beneath the heavy covers. It was the promise to survive the coming threat, a promise of life after war. 

Sleep found them fast, their love serving as a more than warm enough blanket. 

They would figure out their next move come morning. For now, they slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos or a comment.


End file.
